


Knit and Fold

by liathach (tselina)



Series: Sequence [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9698003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tselina/pseuds/liathach
Summary: They know that Jesse, his sunlight relegated to shadows and subterfuge, is destined to die in the dark.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings: Description of injury.**   
>  **Pairings: McMercy, McReyes.**

"I swear I will kill you myself one day," Angela says, fingers clamped around the gash in Jesse's side, the heat of her healing gauntlets nearly too much for her to bear. But she soldiers on, of course, because otherwise, Jesse will bleed out. Detached as she is while she works, she finds this moment professionally annoying, rather than potentially devastating.

Jesse bears his red-stained teeth, feral. His eyes are hazy with blood loss. "That'd be a lot'a lost effort on your part," he drawls. "Hund'ers of hours of work, all down the sink --"

Her fingers tighten a little; he winces, and is quiet while she finishes. She feels his skin and muscles begin to knit back together, the blood flow finally stopped. She rubs his arms to get the blood flowing, all she can reach without taking off his chest armor. Now for an injection of plasma, and he'll have to go back out in the fight. After a nearly fatal wound, of course.

Blackwatch gets it worse than most, and Jesse, while swearing up and down he won't take stupid chances, is always a breath away from collapse. If she had her way, he'd be in a transport home for proper bed rest, but it's not to be. Her face betrays her frustration; Jesse touches her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his eyes.

"Angel," he says, his easy smile replaced with a solemn purse of his mouth. "I won't waste your time. I'll come home to you. Promise."

"I'm holding you to it," she says. Her voice is field medic calm, but her troubled heart pounds in her ears. "Go. Gabr -- _Reyes_ needs you."

She watches Jesse stand, wincing as he does. Her miracle healing does not account for the bruising it leaves in its wake. He limps towards the commander's tent. Outside, Gabriel Reyes waits with arms folded, still as stone. Angela remembers a time when the older man smiled, when he was generous with his kindness. Now, he is shuttered to all but a few, and even then, reserved.

His brow softens as he sees Jesse approach. For him, it's a naked display of relief. He looks at Angela from across the field, mouths "thank you". Then, he hardens once more to instruct Jesse on where to go next. Jesse rubs behind his head, shoulders slouching with apology. Angela can't be mad at Gabriel for pushing Jesse around, not when she can be just as cruel. They've got to be firm with Jesse, to keep him in line, because they know it's the only thing that's keeping the boy they love from throwing himself on the next grenade. 

People whisper behind their backs, how eerie it is that Angela and Gabriel share that same icy, untouched air about the ugliness of the battlefield. They also share the same heartbreak. They know that Jesse, his sunlight relegated to shadows and subterfuge, is destined to die in the dark, far from Gabriel’s strong hands and Angela’s healing touch. 

When that time comes, Angela knows she may no longer be able to hold on to her medic’s serenity, and God knows what Gabriel will do. For now, they must watch Jesse suffer, silent and obedient, the martyr Overwatch, and the world, will never deserve.


End file.
